


What the Hell's He Doing on a Ranch?

by wbh



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Western, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Sexual Tension, Weird Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3987580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbh/pseuds/wbh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Jensen's first summer running the family ranch on his own, and he's hoping everything goes smoothly. That seems to be out of the question, though, because the new summer hire is a little unusual. And he's more attractive than should really be allowed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Hell's He Doing on a Ranch?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever RPF; it exists in a complete AU; unbeta-ed - any mistakes are mine!  
> For Bri :)

It was just Jensen’s luck that his parents would finally decide to take their long-awaited, year long vacation right before the fall calving season. He knew he would have to start running the family ranch on his own in a few years anyway, as his mom and dad inched closer to retirement. Still, he’d been having some time off himself when he was asked to come back and take over the ranch full time. He hadn’t even been there when they’d hired the new ranch-hand for the season (their most experienced worker, Paul, having finally gotten out of the business due to his arthritis) and Jensen had no idea who the new guy was or anything about him.

Jensen pulled his truck up in front of the main house, parked, and lay his head on the steering wheel. He’d been up since 2, an hour earlier than usual, to drop his parents at the airport. He’d already missed the morning feeding and probably quite a bit of the routine maintenance that was done before noon. He just hoped the seasoned ranch hands, Tom, Frank, and Alan, were getting along with the new guy.

Speaking of Alan, the man was headed for Jensen’s truck right now, looking annoyed even at a distance.

Sighing, Jensen got out of his truck. “Hey Alan. What’s the problem?” _This time_ , he thought but didn’t add.

Alan huffed and worked his jaw around the gum he’d recently taken to gnawing on as a replacement for his old chewing tobacco. “Hired on a new hand for the summer. Some weird drifter. You’d better get out there and deal with him, cause the rest of us are about done.”

Jensen frowned. It wasn’t a normal day if Alan wasn’t complaining to him about something. But it sounded like he’d included Tom and Frank this time. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

“The guy’s just….he’s a _weirdo_ , Jensen. I mean, you’ll see him, what the hell’s he’s doing on a ranch?”

“So…if he’s that weird, why was he hired?”

“He was the only applicant. Says he’s passing through and it seemed like fun,” Alan explained, rolling his eyes.

“Right…well, I’ll saddle up and head out to where they’re herding,” Jensen conceded, partly because he was now curious and partly because he wasn’t eager to spend more time with Alan than he had to. “You stay here and run maintenance on the equipment.”

After getting directions from Alan about where the hands had gone that morning, and an update on the cows that were calving in that particular group (the herd was over 300, in different locations, which meant about 7 groups that all had to be checked on several times a week), Jensen saddled one of the ranch’s work horses and rode out to meet the team.

The three ranch hands and the cattle herd were right where Alan had said they’d be, near the river about 3 miles north of the main barn and house. Tom and Frank were doing what they normally did, settled in the saddles of their own horses and keeping an eye on the herd. Jensen knew that they’d probably already finished looking at the herd-health, and were checking to see if they needed to do any pasture maintenance. He really didn’t want to have to start bringing out hay this early in the season, but luckily the pasture looked to be doing pretty well from what he could see.

As Jensen grew closer, however, he noticed that something was off about the whole idyllic image. The new ranch hand wasn’t on his horse. He had the reins wrapped around one hand and seemed to be, of all the crazy things, patting a cow on the head. The cow looked pretty unfazed by the attention, which was a huge relief for Jensen. He didn’t want to have to deal with a trampled body today.

He rode up next to Tom and said without preamble, “So…new guy. Been helpful?”

Tom looked uncomfortable with the question for some reason. “Yeah,” he eventually answered, “he figured it out quick. Not slow neither. But…”

“Yeah?” Jensen prodded.

“He says that one’s named Camilla, and she’s ‘destined for showbiz’”  Tom said, nodding toward the cow the new guy was still petting.

“Uh…huh,” Jensen replied slowly.

“Can you deal with him?” Frank suddenly butted in.

“Yeah…sure,” Jensen supposed it was his job to get the new hand back on his horse and away from a pregnant cow that might get as annoyed with him as the older ranch hands were.

He rode up toward the new guy and got a better look at him. He had one thing going for him – he certainly was easy on the eyes. The man had messy dark hair that had obviously been a victim of the wind, bright blue eyes, and a light shading of stubble that made his strong-jawline even more attractive. He had the build of a runner, with strong, thick thighs and a pretty solid upper body. Well, at least, Jensen assumed. His plaid shirt didn’t really fit, and hung on him like a baggy, misshapen mess. His work and riding boots were clearly new, and they had the stylistic look of the kind bought by people who didn’t really know what to look for in a good ranch shoe. Still, he looked like he’d be able to carry his weight, and Jensen would get a little eye candy along the way. Nothing wrong with looking, as long as he didn’t do anything.

“Hi,” said Jensen finally, realizing that what he’d been doing might have counted as staring. “I’m Jensen, one of the ranch owners. And you’re the summer hire.”

“Oh hi!” said the guy brightly, like there was nothing strange about the fact that he was scratching a cow behind the ears. “I’m Misha! Looking forward to having fun with these ladies!”

“Uh…yeah,” said Jensen, kind of weirded out by Misha’s enthusiasm. Also, _Misha_? “Just as long as you keep up with the work.”

“Oh, no worries there, I’ve done way worse jobs than this. Carpentry, electric wiring for the CIA, lots of confidentiality paperwork or I’d tell you all about it, ice cream truck driving, you know, the usual. Have you ever sexed chickens before?” Misha finished by asking.

No Jensen had not. And he didn’t really want to know where that question had come from either. Instead of answering, he refocused his attention on and gestured to the reigns Misha was holding loosely in one hand, connected to a very perplexed looking horse.

"Can you even ride a horse?” he asked, almost seriously, given the way the introduction had gone.

“Oh sure,” said Misha. “As long as the animal’s asleep, I’m fine.”

Jensen honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking.

* * *

 

The weeks went by, the cows grew irritated as they neared the end of their pregnancies, and Misha completely failed to settle in with the workers and routine of the ranch. While Misha certainly did his share of the work, and did it well, he didn’t tone down the weirdness. He barely reacted at all to the odd looks Tom, Frank, sometimes Jensen, and Alan (and in Alan’s case, rude remarks just loud enough for him to hear) threw his way. If anything, he dialed _up_ the weird. He started coming into work wearing t-shirts with wolves’ heads on them, or cardigans, of all things, on cooler days when he worked on the equipment in the barn. Once, when it was his turn to run into town to pick up groceries for lunch, he’d returned wearing a flower patterned apron that he’d apparently just _had_ to buy off of the woman at the bakery.

Flowers were also part of the latest development in Misha’s parade of weirdness. Jensen was working with the hands in the hay field. They’d checked on all the various sections of the herd already that week, so it was time for them to harvest hay in anticipation of pasture reduction if the summer was dry, or to store for winter. Misha was working just as hard as the rest of them, but had somehow found time during a water break to visit the wild flowers near the hay field and fashion himself a necklace made of daisies. Despite Tom and Frank throwing each other sidelong looks, no one had said anything. Jensen had been distracted by his own work, and absolutely not at all by Misha’s biceps. Nope. No gawking at the weird yet attractive employee for him.

At some point toward the end of their work on this particular field, Misha started  humming to himself. Jensen wasn’t even sure he recognized the song.

This was apparently the last straw for Alan, who muttered to Jensen, just loud enough for his voice to carry, “Is he some kind of pansy?”

“Sadly, there were only daisies over there,” Misha responded loudly before Jensen had a chance to, “I could look for pansies later though, if you want me to make something for you.”

Well. Social weirdness aside, at least he could take care of himself, Jensen thought with relief.

* * *

 

The summer progressed quickly as Misha failed to settle in. Jensen had so much work every day that there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the way Misha’s shirts clung to his muscular back as he worked in the barn. There was enough time though. Enough time to dwell on his back and his biceps and his bright blue eyes, and perpetually messy hair. And certainly enough time for Jensen to catch himself staring at Misha’s ass and hastily go tend to something far away from the man.

Jensen found himself thinking about Misha at odd moments. He wondered what Misha did on his off hours; he clearly wasn’t relaxing with Alan, Frank, and Tom. Alan’s dislike of Misha had only become more apparent as the weeks went by, and the other hands had fallen into step with him for the most part. At the very least, they didn’t take a stand against him when he muttered about Misha under his breath, just loudly enough for everyone to hear. Jensen wasn’t sure what he could or even should do about it, particularly once Misha started giving as good as he got. There’d been a remarkable uptick in weird Misha incidents since Alan had become more vocal in his dislike, and Jensen couldn’t help but wonder if it was Misha’s way of giving him the middle finger.

When the calves finally started coming, Misha assisted with the birthing with the rest of them. He also went around giving all the new calves strange names, like “Claude” and “Estrogen.” Jensen started referring to the various cows by Misha’s names, unintentionally of course. Alan always threw Jensen a dirty look when he did something like ask Tom to go bring Applebutter back to the herd when she’d wandered off.

Alan, in response, started to ramp up his reaction to Misha’s weird, but not in nearly as harmless a fashion. Misha eventually had to stop asking Alan for any help with how to do some of the less intuitive ranch work, because Alan was likely to tell him completely the wrong information. Misha’s tools also started moving about mysteriously, and Jensen caught him one day bringing in a new thresher to replace the one he’d ‘lost.’ Jensen paid him back and made Alan tell him where the old one was hidden.

But the resentment and dislike building between Misha and Alan was under control, or so Jensen thought. What wasn’t under control was Jensen’s libido. The more time he spent around Misha, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about everything he liked about him. His laugh. His gummy smile. The way his bright blue eyes sparkled when he told a joke. The way one corner of his mouth would quirk up when he was nonchalantly enraging Alan. His messy hair, a constant disaster from all the outdoor work, but one Jensen longed to run his fingers through. He wanted to grab Misha’s hair and pull him close enough to feel those runner’s thighs, and find out what his full lips and stubble felt like. He bet they were surprisingly soft. Jensen did none of this, however, mostly because Misha was his employee, and he had some sense of professionalism. He certainly wasn’t nervous about what the other guys would think. What his parents would think. Well, maybe a little. After spending so much time not acting on his attraction to men, it was a little alarming to him that resisting his attraction to Misha was such a daily challenge.

The uneasy peace for all parties finally broke one day, a week or so after all the cows had given birth. Jensen walked into the break room in the barn to find all the ranch hands except for Misha having lunch. They were laughing about something, but shut up quickly when Jensen came in the door.

Well. That wasn’t a good sign.

“What’s so funny?” Jensen asked, increasingly sure he didn’t want to know the answer.

Tom was still smiling as he answered, but it was a sheepish, slightly guilty smile. “Alan told Misha to take the jeep out to the west pastures.”

Jensen almost didn’t resist the urge to put his face in his hand in frustration. It had rained the previous day. A lot. They mostly used horses because of days like this, when any attempt to take even the jeep down the dirt roads to the pastures was just asking for several hours stuck in the mud.

“And you, what, let him do that?” Jensen asked the three experienced ranch hands. He must have sounded more angry that he originally intended, because none of them were smiling anymore. “I don’t care what you think about the guy, taking advantage of the fact that he’s new at this isn’t funny! You know how much time we’re gonna have to waste getting the car unstuck this afternoon? Anything lost is coming out of your pay, Alan! Misha may be a weird dude, but he’s funny and harmless and you need get over it. You can dislike the guy but you can’t take it out at work. Got it?”

Jensen didn’t wait for a reply before stalking out of the break room. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset. Yeah, Alan’s disdain for Misha had been starting to get to him, but his ranch hands didn’t have to like each other, as long as they all did their jobs. Maybe that was the problem. Misha always pulled his weight, and Alan’s taking advantage of Misha’s ignorance today was going to eat up his whole afternoon. As Jensen saddled up a horse to go after Misha, he hoped Alan realized he was now responsible for taking care of the afternoon chores while Jensen was gone.

In spite of the thick mud on the trail it was actually a nice day for a ride, and Jensen calmed down somewhat as he trotted off west in search of Misha and the jeep. He finally spotted Misha at the bottom of a hill, trying in vain to dig the back wheels of the jeep out of a particularly deep rut. He was already pretty covered in mud. Jensen licked his lips and tried to curb all the thoughts that image conjured. Misha was his employee. It would be totally inappropriate for Jensen to insist he take his shirt off. Totally inappropriate to run his hands through that muddy hair. Not to mention any harassment claim Misha could make would open up a whole can of worms. Although, Jensen got the sense sometimes that his lingering looks over Misha’s strong arms and muscular back and well…everything weren’t entirely unnoticed or unappreciated. Misha sometimes had this twinkling little smirk on his face when he noticed Jensen looking. The dude was basically a chaos fairy though, so Jensen wasn’t quite sure what the look meant. He wasn’t willing to entertain the possibility that Misha would _want_ Jensen to tackle him into the mud and take advantage of him. That would be absurd.

Jensen realized he’d been watching Misha dig around the jeep for far too long without doing anything to help, so he shook himself and rode down to the road.

“Hey,” Jensen called “Need a hand?” He immediately realized that was a pretty stupid question.

Misha turned to watch Jensen approach, looking a little more forlorn than usual. “Oh no,” he said, sarcasm almost completely masked, “I think I’ve got this totally under control.”

Jensen had to fight back a small laugh at that. Misha seemed to be able to make him laugh at the slightest provocation, but this wasn’t really the time for it.

“I’m sorry Alan’s been such a dick,” Jensen said, as he swung off his horse and approached Misha. “I told him not to pull crap like this anymore. Can’t guarantee he’ll leave you alone, but this was way over the line.”

Misha went quiet for a moment, mulling that over. “Well….thanks,” he said, being uncharacteristically sincere. “Wasn’t quite sure where you stood on all of that.”

At that, Jensen chastised himself a little for playing his hand so close to his chest. “Aw, nah man, you’re alright. Pretty damn funny sometimes, and we all need that. Alan’s just a douche who always needs something to complain about. Actually doing stuff to someone’s a new one for him though. And you, uh, you shouldn’t listen to him. You know you’re…you’re, not too bad at this,” Jensen said, truthfully.

One corner of Misha’s mouth quirked up. “I think you’re in an extreme minority with that opinion, but thanks.”

Misha had at this point abandoned his attempt to free the jeep and was staring at Jensen with his head cocked, a small smile playing around his lips. Jensen stared at his blue eyes for perhaps longer than he should have before coughing and saying, “Right. So. Let’s get this baby back to the house.”

Even with the two of them working, one trying the engine while the other pushed, or sometimes both of them pushing, trying to work the car out of the mud, it took a lot longer than Jensen had wanted to stay out that day, the sun beating down on them. He thought about taking his shirt off, but quashed that idea when he realized it might encourage Misha to take _his_ off. Jensen knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate if Misha was half naked in front of him. They managed to get the jeep out of one rut and about halfway home before it got stuck in the mud at a different section of the road, one Misha reported had been a big puddle earlier in the day, and therefore passable. The sun drying up a some of the water hadn’t done them any favors.

As Jensen lined himself up at the back of the jeep next to Misha again, throwing himself into pushing the car to higher ground, he almost lost his grip when his shoulder brushed Misha’s. Misha apparently didn’t mind the contact, because soon their arms were pressed against each other as they both put threw themselves into the task. Jensen finally felt that firm bicep against his, and it was just as wonderful as he’d imagined. The brush of Misha’s skin against his distracted Jensen enough that he lost his grip on the car, then lost his footing, and then fell down into the mud. Somehow, their proximity meant he dragged Misha down with him, flailing limbs tangling together as they slid away from the car.

It was quiet for a moment, and then Misha started laughing. God, Jensen loved that laugh. He loved making Misha laugh, even if it meant lying down in a muddy road with the other guy practically on top of him. He started laughing too, and pretty soon they couldn’t stop. Jensen doubled over, struggling to catch his breath around the hysterical laughter he couldn’t seem to stop. For all he’d been furious with Alan earlier, this had actually been a pretty nice break, car pushing and all. Jensen turned toward Misha to check he was having a similarly good time, and was startled to find Misha’s face surprisingly close to his. They lay their in the mud, nose to nose, trying to catch their breathe. Jensen knew he’d already spent far more than the acceptable amount of time looking straight into Misha’s eyes, but found he couldn’t stop himself. As they both caught their breath, Jensen’s gaze darted down to Misha’s lips before he could stop himself. He was sure Misha saw it. God what would he think of Jensen now? Only, Misha had just quirked his eyebrow, and taken his own glance at Jensen’s lips, before licking his own. That did it. Jensen’s self control had officially reached it’s full capacity. Almost without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Misha’s, conscious at the last second that Misha was also leaning toward him.

Jensen had been right. Misha’s lips were soft. They were soft, but his stubble rasped against Jensen’s cheeks. Misha made a happy sound, and Jensen smiled into their chaste kiss. He couldn’t believe this hadn’t been one-sided. He barely had time to rejoice internally before Misha rolled him onto his back and climbed on top of him to take charge and deepen the kiss.

Alan’s stupid prank aside, this had been a very good day.

* * *

 

Jensen’s anger at the jeep incident had apparently been enough for Alan not to try anything that stupid again. And Jensen’s newfound open fondness for Misha meant that his grumbling was more subdued too, although he had an even more put-upon than usual air about him when he showed up for work. Jensen didn’t worry about it too much though. Alan had always been kind of a thorn in his side, for all he was a good worker. If he wanted to go work at some other ranch, Jensen would just hire someone else.

The other change after the jeep incident was the sneaking around Misha and Jensen did. On breaks they’d catch each other in the barn and kiss until they had to go back to work. After a couple of days of stolen kisses only, Misha gave Jensen a questioning look before palming Jensen’s erection, and at Jensen’s nod stuck his hand unceremoniously down Jensen’s pants and jerked him off. Jensen could barely believe how perfect Misha’s hand was around his dick, just the right amount of pressure and just the right speed. He returned the favor, but felt clumsy and uncoordinated; he’d never jerked off with anyone’s dick but his own, and wasn’t sure if he was doing it the way Misha liked. Still, Misha seemed satisfied, fluttering his eyes shut and moaning softly as Jensen worked his hand up and down Misha’s cock. It was a really nice dick, and Jensen liked looking at it was much as he liked watching Misha fall apart with his orgasm. It was a shame they had to do these mutual handjobs so covertly in the barn during working hours. Jensen would really appreciate the time to figure out how to make Misha come apart properly, and more slowly. Still, it was much better than he’d even imagined back when he was stuck fantasizing about what Misha looked like with his shirt off.

After a few weeks though, Jensen still hadn’t worked up the courage to spend that kind of time with Misha outside of working hours. Misha lived in the loft above the barn, after all, the only one of the ranch hands who took advantage of the apartment space in lieu of finding a place in town. That meant in the evenings Jensen and Misha were alone on the property together, but Jensen still hadn’t sought Misha out. He got the sense Misha knew Jensen was less experienced with men, and was waiting for him to make a move. The thing was, Jensen wasn’t just looking for a quick fuck from Misha. He actually really _liked_ the weird bastard, flower necklace making, cow naming and all. He didn’t want to rush into something and make Misha leave. “Some drifter” was what Alan had called him when he first showed up, and Jensen wasn’t sure how to ask Misha to stay.

On top of all of that, the prospect of actually trying something with Misha, something beyond just fucking his employee for a summer, meant thinking about coming out to his parents. Jensen’s mind wanted to run away from the very idea of that, particularly when he thought about his father. He’d purposefully never really dwelled on what a guy who didn’t want his son doing anything ‘not manly’ would think about that son fucking a guy. If Jensen was honest with himself, that’s why he hadn’t yet taken this thing with Misha beyond covert handjobs in the barn. If he kept it to just that, he hadn’t _really_ had sex with the dude, and wouldn’t have to think about confronting his father.

His insecurities kept churning in his mind though, in spite of his best efforts to push them down and away. The last few days, Misha had seemed to notice something was going on with Jensen, probably thinking he was pulling away. About three weeks into their arrangement, or whatever it was, Misha stopped making so much time to meet Jensen around the ranch. He smiled at Jensen and was as friendly as ever, but seemed to be coping with the anticipated rejection by being even more outrageous than usual. He had an impromptu dance party in the barn one afternoon (if it could be called that; Misha was a horrible dancer) and had spent one afternoon meticulously crafting a bouquet of vegetables. One evening after Tom, Frank, and Alan went home Jensen caught Misha making an impressively large hot air balloon out of garbage bags and candles. When Jensen asked him why, he answered a short and almost curt “Why not?” instead of one of his normal more jubilant and wild explanations.

Jensen didn’t want to stay around the ranch after that. He was angry with himself, but not sure if he could get up the courage to do anything to fix it. He wanted to spend _more_ time with Misha, dammit, not less. He wanted to touch him, and make him laugh, and spend more time looking at his eyes. He wanted to do things to Misha he’d only let himself imagine doing to a guy in his most secluded fantasies, like take a roll in the hay with him under the apple tree near the eastern pastures of the ranch. It wasn’t as though he’d never been attracted to a man before. But he’d never felt like this. Misha was different. Misha made him want to do something about whatever it was between them.

Jensen got in his truck and drove into town, intent on drowning his sorrows at his friend Katie’s bar. Hell, he didn’t even know if Misha would want him anymore after how he’d been acting recently, even if he got up the courage to ask for something more. Nobody wanted to deal with a hot and cold half-closeted dude. He’d worked himself up to being pretty miserable by the time he parked and walked in to sit down at his regular seat at the Video Saloon. Luckily, Katie was tending bar tonight, her long blonde hair swinging as she chatted up customers at the far end from where Jensen had sat down.

Katie was the owner and proprietor of what Jensen considered the only good bar in town. She was about his age, and very pretty. Jensen’s parents had gone through a long phase early in their friendship of asking if there was something going on between them. The answer to that had always been no. It wasn’t as though Jensen didn’t find her attractive, he just thought of her too much as a friend. She’d never seemed particularly interested in him that way either, although he had it on good authority that most women found him very appealing. She was the person he complained and drowned his sorrows to, and she did the same to him. But she didn’t make him feel warm inside in that special way, and making her laugh didn’t put a skip in his step for the rest of the day. He didn’t feel any particular urge to run his fingers through her hair and pull her in close. Not like with Misha.

At that thought, Jensen scowled and waved Katie down to his side of the bar. He ordered a beer, but she seemed to catch is mood and stuck around after she plunked it down in front of him.

“Why the long face, hot-shot?” Katie asked, leaning toward him on the bar.

Jensen shrugged, not really sure how to explain the situation. Katie was one of the only people in his life who knew about his bisexual tendencies, but it didn’t make it any easier to talk about.

“There’s this new hired hand at the ranch…” Jensen started, and then paused, unsure how to continue. Katie just quirked an eyebrow at him. “I like him.” Jensen said finally, in a rush. “A lot.”

“Uh-huh,” said Katie, looking a little surprised, but covering it up well.

“And, well, we’ve been doing stuff. You know,” Jensen continued.

Katie held up a hand, “Don’t need the details, hoss.”

Jensen smacked her lightly on the arm, “Nothing really! Barely anything! But that’s kind of the problem. I…I’ve been freaking out a little, and I think I want more, like, long-term more, but he probably thinks I’m some closeted tease. And anyway, he’s a drifter, so he’s probably not going to stay once the season’s over.”

“Do you know that? You could ask him to stay on,” Katie said, like it could be that simple, “And have you considered maybe talking to him about this stuff? You know, instead of me, who probably doesn’t care as much? I mean, do you think he likes you back?”

“Maybe,” Jensen replied, but honestly he did. Logically, Misha wouldn’t have been hurt or pulling away if he didn’t like Jensen too.

“Well, go talk to him! Take him on a romantic ride through the ranch, apologize for being a dick, and go get a piece of that ass!” Katie said with a grin.

Jensen groaned and smacked her again, but he started to grin, his mood lifting a little. It sucked getting caught up in his own insecurities, and maybe talking to Katie had been just what he needed. Maybe it would be that easy to fix this, to ask Misha if he felt the same. Unfortunately, easy didn’t mean it didn’t make him nervous as all hell.

***

Jensen didn’t think he’d ever been so anxious about anything in his life. It was about a week after his talk with Katie, and he’d finally worked up the courage to do something about the Misha situation, which hadn’t improved at all. All the ranch work was done for the day, and Tom, Frank, and Alan had left as soon as they could, intent on making the most of their rare weekend off. They were approaching a slower part of the season, and Jensen was confident he and Misha could manage the ranch for a few days. He wasn’t sure how keen on that arrangement Misha was, but hopefully after tonight his outlook would change.

Jensen thought it would be overly optimistic of him to saddle the horses for his planned excursion before actually asking Misha, but he did pack a picnic dinner before walking over to Misha’s apartment loft above the bar. If it went horribly, he could just eat the picnic dinner sadly alone in the house. Or throw it against a tree. He took a deep breath before knocking on Misha’s door, stomach squirming with nerves.

Misha answered the door looking flustered and more disheveled than usual. He was wearing ratty old jeans with holes in the knees, a baggy t-shirt, and his hair looked like even more of a disaster than usual. He was perfect.

“Uh…hello?” Misha asked cautiously. Jensen suddenly realized he’d been staring, and blushed.

“Uh, yeah, hi,” said Jensen, blush deepening as he lost the ability to talk. This was not going to be as easy as Katie had made it sound. “I just, uh, I’ve been…I’ve been wanting to talk to you, and I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride and have dinner?” He held up the picnic basket as evidence.

Misha looked a little uncertain, and moved his head from side to side as if weighing the options. “Look, Jensen,” he started, but Jensen cut him off.

“Look, I know I’ve been a bit of a confusing dick recently, and I wanted to make it up to you,” he said in a rush. “And, you know, talk and stuff.”

At that, Misha started to smile. “Alright,” he said, “I’ll get my boots back on.”

They saddled two horses without talking much, although they stood much closer as they worked than they had the past few weeks, arms and hands occasionally bumping, making Jensen blush. They rode out to Jensen’s favorite apple tree in the east pastures. He set up a blanket and their picnic dinner in the magical light of the early sunset. They ate, Misha exclaiming about the food with enough enthusiasm to give Jensen the courage he needed to say what he wanted.

“So, Misha,” he started, during a pause in the conversation, “About the last few weeks….I’m sorry man. I just…I just got a little scared, ‘cause…well, ‘cause you might not be around anymore at the end of the season, and I didn’t want this to just be…I like you, ok? And I’m sorry I got all closed off, but I’ve never really done this stuff with a guy before and I’d like to keep doing it with you, you know for a while. Cause you’re fun, and kind of weird, but I like that, and you make hot air balloons out of garbage bags, I mean seriously man, what the hell? And anyway, I was wondering…I was wondering how you felt,” he finished lamely. God, he wished Misha had interrupted that ramble at some point. He finally gathered up the courage to look up at Misha, relieved to find him grinning as widely as Jensen had ever seen.

"I have to admit, I did not think that was what you were going to say. Well, I hoped. I hoped something like that. Cause I’ve been feeling the same way. Was going to ask if you would want me on for another season, but - ”

“I do,” Jensen interrupted. “Definitely do.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have a lovely and soft saddle blanket that fits very nicely here under the tree,” Misha said conversationally, getting up and laying down the blanket as he talked. “Also, I’m an optimist, so I came prepared, because what the hell, right?” Misha pulled what was unmistakably a bottle of lube out of his pocket, smirking at Jensen as he waggled his eyebrows.

 Jensen coughed out a laugh in spite of himself. “You asshole!” he exclaimed, before tackling Misha down on to the blanket and pinning him so he could capture that smirking mouth in a kiss.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed kissing Misha. It felt like coming home. Misha kissed like he did everything else, with determination, and his own unique flair. Jensen shuddered as Misha curled his tongue around Jensen’s and pushed into Jensen’s mouth. Misha took advantage of his distraction to flip their position, rolling to pin Jensen onto the blanket. He ground their erections together through the fabric of their jeans, and it was so nice Jensen didn’t even care he was lying on the ground. They were under the apple tree. It was his fantasy come to life.

Misha broke the kiss, drawing a displeased growl from Jensen. “Hold your horses,” Misha said, and winked, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for ages.”

He smoothed his hands down Jensen’s chest and went immediately for the fly of his jeans. Once Jensen’s dick was free, curling up with his arousal, Misha grinned and then ever so slowly wrapped his lips around Jensen’s cock and started sucking him off.

Holy hell. Jensen had always liked Misha’s mouth, but this was on a whole other planet. Misha clearly had experience sucking dick, because he knew just what to do. Jensen barely held himself together as Misha bobbed his head, giving into temptation to grab onto Misha’s hair like a handle to ride out the best blowjob he’d ever had. The sensation was almost too much and before he knew it Jensen wanted very, very much to complete his deepest, most private fantasy involving Misha and the apple tree.

“Hey, Mish,” he said breathily, tugging up on his hair. Misha popped off his dick with an obscene sound, and Jensen almost came just from that. He looked at Jensen quizzically, a little furor between his brows. Jensen wanted to nibble it. But, first, more important things. Focus.

“You ok?” Misha asked, concerned.

"I’m _awesome_ ,” Jensen said, grinning, trying to soothe Misha’s worries. “That was great. You’re great. But I really want you…I really want you to fuck me.” There, he’d said it. He’d said it out loud and the world hadn’t ended.

Misha looked like he’d just been given the key to Fort Knox. “You…you sure?” he asked, sounded slightly blind-sided for the first time since Jensen had met him.

“Definitely,” said Jensen, nodding. He handed Misha the lube. “Here. I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ve never…not with a dude anyway.”

Misha’s smile gentled as he took the bottle from Jensen’s trembling hand. “Don’t worry, Jen. I’ve got a lot of hands on experience.”

They both got naked pretty quickly after that, lying on the blanket together with Jensen on his back, legs spread around Misha, who slicked up his fingers and pressed them one at a time into Jensen. He had Jensen bucking and crying out from touches to his prostate before he’d even got three fingers in, and Jensen was a happy, sensation filled mess by the time Misha slicked up his own cock and pushed inside Jensen. It was amazing. Perfect. He loved the way Misha felt inside of him, the way Misha’s body shuddered on top of him as he struggled to compose himself enough to start moving and fuck Jensen into the blanket. Jensen ran soothing hands over Misha’s shoulders and thought that, if this wasn’t manly, he really didn’t give a damn. He wanted to keep doing this for a long time.

As they both neared completion, Misha jacking Jensen off while singing something that sounded suspiciously like the guitar solo from “Whole Lotta Love” Jensen leaned forward and shut him up with a kiss. When then had both come and finally pulled apart, panting, Misha completely unselfconsciously pulled Jensen in for a cuddle, snuggling up against Jensen’s chest in the warmth of the setting sun and sighing in delight.

This was wonderful. This is just what Jensen had wanted, and he almost couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten it. How lucky he was that any of this had happened at all. How the stars had aligned to bring this weird dude to his ranch in particular. A crazy ranch hand who talked to cows, who kissed him in the mud, and snuck around for covert handjobs in the barn. All of that had built to this, and all of it had been totally worth it. Jensen held Misha close as he hoped that Misha would be true to his word and stick around for a long time. There was no real way of knowing where this was going, after all, even if Jensen wanted this moment in particular to last forever. And of course, there was also the problem of his parents coming back at the end of the summer…aw screw it. Misha was worth whatever uncomfortable confrontations awaited him.


End file.
